Emergence
by gij
Summary: Sometimes you need to know what you really need. C/S
1. Silence

Title: Emergence Trilogy. Part One  
  
Author: gij  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Feedback: Please, I'm a senior student with no time. I need the incentive.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. CBS are lucky, lucky people.  
  
Summary: Sometimes you need to learn what you really need. S/G, S/C. Catherine POV.  
  
Silence  
  
Backbeat the word is on the street  
  
That the fire in your heart is out  
  
I'm sure you've heard it all before  
  
But you never really had a doubt I don't believe that anybody Feels the way I do about you now  
  
You wake up in a strange mood, instantly aware and slightly paranoid. The world seems simultaneously black and white and slightly sparkly, and you're not quite sure how that works.  
  
The mood persists as you dress and leave for work, kissing Lindsay on the forehead as you go past. It continues as you park your Tahoe and climb up the stairs to CSI, and you don't know the reason until Nick grabs you by the arm and swings you into the break room before you can get anywhere near Grissom's office.  
  
You have trouble hearing what he's saying as your eyes automatically fix on the door as you see her walk past. She's smiling for once, and it nearly kills you to see her. There's a bounce in her step as she walks down the hall and your paranoia returns in full force as you consider the reasons for her happiness.  
  
"They're like, perfect. They match, damnit. Bugman is finally gonna pull his head out, and you saw the way she was smiling." Nick trails off. You realise you're staring.  
  
"Are you okay? I thought you'd be happy. For Grissom."  
  
For Grissom. The words haunt you as you turn and walk silently out of the room.  
  
  
  
You find yourself watching them over days and then over weeks. He actually smiles when she's around and she looks happy, like she's done something she's wanted to for a long, long time.  
  
You'd seen the looks for years and you wondered, everyone did. You heard speculation and ideas and some serious lies, but you somehow thought you knew nothing would ever happen. So much for that thought, for being the "people person".  
  
  
  
They work just the same, alone or together, and so you can't even claim that as a reason not to be around them. Around him. You could never avoid her even if you wanted to, you couldn't drag yourself away.  
  
They work as a team, and you observe yet again what the others have commented on, that they complement each other, that they recognise something in each other, that they have some strange geeky telepathy going sometimes.  
  
They work alone, and you can still see the happy expressions on their faces, as they consider their lives and what they have to go home to, compare their lives to those of the dead and dying people they see every day.  
  
You work silently, and you watch them. You withdraw into yourself a little more every time you see them both. Worried glances pass over your head, but you'll never admit what is bothering you.  
  
  
  
She smiles more often now. You're happy for that, that chance to watch her face blossom into that expression daily, but you hate the reason for it. You would hate her for being happy with anybody but you, being happy without you.  
  
But you could never hate her. 


	2. Confusion

Confusion  
  
Something changes, and as before, you're aware of it in the air before anything ever happens. You walk into the break room like you do every day, and you have a sudden feeling of déjà vu, a bizarre prescience that you understand as soon as you see Nick gesturing to you again.  
  
You ignore his requests and walk back into the hall. You stand outside the door and just wait.  
  
Sure enough, she walks past the end of the corridor within seconds. She stands at the T-junction of hallways and looks straight at you.  
  
You stare back boldly, and you know you're right. She looks down and keeps walking.  
  
  
  
  
  
You end up being assigned to a case with Nicky, and you work the first half of your night shift at a crime scene, then come back to CSI. You drop by Grissom's office and unintentionally walk into an ice competition.  
  
She's sitting in the chair across from his desk, and they're so intent upon each other, they don't even notice you at the door.  
  
He looks confused, unhappy, trying to understand. He never quite manages to understand other people and this is another example of it. You hoped for it in a way, and you did expect it.  
  
She looks both frustrated and hurt. You could have warned her that this would happen, that you can never expect a relationship to work between two people so closed off to the real world, but you'd have been wasting your time. And you'd have seemed bitter.  
  
You must make some noise, because abruptly Sara breaks their staring competition and walks out, barely brushing past you on her way through.  
  
  
  
  
  
They won't work together after that, or maybe it's he won't work with her and she's in no position or frame of mind to argue. They work around each other and don't talk, and she's sad but you're glad in a way.  
  
You watch as she sneaks into his office at the end of the shift and drops her paperwork on his desk before he has a chance to get back and they have to talk without the buffer of someone else on the team.  
  
She walks out off his office and straight down the hall towards the car park. Her back is straight and her steps resolute, and things would seem normal if you didn't know better.  
  
  
  
  
  
But you see her at other times, and it's more than obvious nothing is normal. You damn the multitudes of glass walls in the building, if there weren't such a multitude, you reason, you wouldn't be an unwilling witness to so many scenes.  
  
You see them in his office one time, and you can't hear them through the glass, but you feel the vibes as they argue. He's impassive and she's furious, and the more calm he stays, the angrier she gets.  
  
Finally she looks down for a second, and he moves closer before she notices. Even when she does look up she doesn't stop him, and you see him move closer and place a gentle hand on her hip.  
  
You hate the implications of the intimacy, and you almost applaud when she immediately steps away, shaking her head at him in disgust or fury, and walks out.  
  
Her defiance isn't without cost, however, and you see her later in the break room, head down, with tears tracing her cheeks. You watch through glass walls as water traces the lines of her face, glimmers at the edge of her mouth. You'd like to touch her there.  
  
  
  
Everything seems to settle after that last scene, and you at least don't see them fight again. Things are tense at CSI headquarters, but you can't imagine circumstances under which they would not be.  
  
She starts smiling again, but they still work separately. You get to work with her more and more, and you try to arrange things so you'll be partnered together.  
  
Despite everything, you have an overwhelming tendency to want to mother her, to take care of her - to clean scraped knees and dry tears. You find it hard not to smile at that image.  
  
She needs it, though. You both know it. 


	3. Acceptance

Acceptance  
You dream about her often. You dream you wake up, early morning when you've both just got off shift, and she's standing in your bedroom door.  
  
You blink sleepily, and before you can move, she's on the bed with you. She straddles your waist, laughing, and leans down to kiss you. When you reach up to touch her, she laughs again and catches a wrist in each hand, holds them prisoner against the bed.  
  
You squirm against her, and you manage to get a hand away from her. The blankets pull away from where they loosely cover you as you manage to grab her and roll her onto the bed, moving to lie on top of her.  
  
She tries to escape, get away as you just did, and you can feel her long legs move against the inside of your bare thighs. You hold her gently, and your palms slide over her smooth stomach, feel the tiny bump of each rib.  
  
That image, the physical contact, is enough to wake you up every time. You jolt awake, sweat marking your white sheets.  
With the amount of time you spend together, you reason, it's hardly unexpected that you dream about her. It seems Grissom has some sort of controlling plan - not only will he not work around her, but he will rarely assign one of the men to work with her either.  
  
Perhaps it's some unconscious sign of jealousy, perhaps he feels safer working where she won't watch him and you won't question them both. You suspect he's seen you watch them both, and is preparing to block off your interest, your investigation.  
  
You couldn't care less for his reasoning, of course, and you don't even want to confront him about his feelings for her. You simply don't want to know, don't want to know what words were offered, what whispers suggested. You don't want to know anything about them for the simple reason that you want her for yourself.  
  
Sometimes you find her watching you with your own speculative look, and you wonder if the feeling is all one sided. You'd be tempted to drop a casual hint as to a temporary partner, just to see how she would react, but you'd never hurt her that way. You'd never damage your own chances for something as petty.  
  
But she stands up from investigating the twisted ruins of a car wreck, and her eyes go to you immediately. You feel the gaze where you're interviewing witnesses twenty metres away, and your eyes meet. Curiosity, confusion, and intensity.  
It's not always like that, of course. She seems more vulnerable, and there are certain topics which are definitely off limits. You try to work around them. You would try to work around her, but that's an impossibility. Faked indifference was never your strong point.  
  
So when you find her quietly crying behind her car at the end of the shift, after finding that a young girl drowned for no more reason than the carelessness of her parents, you could no more walk away than you could lift up the Tahoe. Not on a cold day in hell.  
  
So you wrap arms around her waist and pet her hair, wipe away her tears with the edge of your sleeve. You'll never wash this shirt again, never. She raises her eyes to yours and there's pain and anger and some silent form of comprehension.  
  
You think you understand her, maybe. You think she's starting to understand you.  
In any case, you work closer together than ever. She smiles at you when no one is watching and while it terrifies you, you also love it. You bump together casually while getting your field kits out of her Tahoe and your heart beats faster, you can't help it.  
  
She finds evidence, blood drops on the pavement, and you follow her as she tracks them, place markers beside them and photograph them. She stays a few steps ahead, flashing her torch around, nearly blinding you when she turns back to ask you something.  
  
The trail ends abruptly, leading up to the sidewalk curb and disappearing. You guess that whatever it was disappeared into a car at this stage. She flashes the light over the street several times, then agrees with you.  
  
You walk back to the main scene together, and she kneels to inspect something. You're packing up your kit, hoping you're done here, and she calls to you.  
  
You wander over and place a hand on her shoulder for balance, brushing her hair to the side absent-mindedly as you do so.  
  
She looks up at you immediately, looks from your eyes to your hand and back again. You start to blush and begin to withdraw your hand, suddenly sure she can see the images flashing through your mind. at a crime scene no less.  
  
She watches with huge eyes as you pull your hand back, then meets your eyes again. Without looking down, she takes your hand with one of hers and tugs you down to see what she's looking at.  
  
She points out a white residue on the concrete. You're dubious, it could be anything and not even vaguely related to the case. Still, she lets go of your hand long enough to scrape up a sample, and you remember suddenly what it's like to be alone.  
  
Even here, with her just inches away, the loss of contact is almost painful. You stand up and start to go back to the car.  
  
She calls your name and chases you to the back door of the Tahoe, stows her gear alongside yours. She slams the door and looks at you for the longest moment of your life.  
  
You stare back, and you're sure she can read your mind, and you don't know if you feel more thrilled or shamed for that thought. You break her gaze and move around towards the passenger side.  
  
You're out of sight to the majority of the world here, and she's on you in a flash. Before you can begin to comprehend the first movement, she's grabbed you, spun you, and pinned you against the side of the car with her body.  
  
She's impatient, and she bites your lower lip gently when you don't open to her immediately. You're amazed that the shock doesn't have your bottom jaw hanging open, your lips part even as you think it. She's past your lips and teeth before you can think about it, tongue claiming your mouth.  
  
You kiss her back with just as much intensity, rubbing tongues together in a way that swiftly makes you feel mindless. Your hands aren't idle, they slide around her and up over her back, come to rest on her shoulder blades. You revel in your ability to pull her even closer and do so.  
  
She breaks away suddenly and you can only conclude that you've moved too fast, you've scared her somehow. You drop your hands and she looks at you again, her dark eyes bordering on absolutely wild. She still has a grip on your upper arm as she yanks the car door open and all but tosses you onto the backseat.  
She crawls in after you, tugging the door closed with a foot as she moves cautiously over you. You lie as still as possible and stare up at her, how amazing she looks right now. Her hair is in her face and scarcely more than moonlight angles off her face, making her look ethereal and incredibly real all at once.  
  
She's somehow both black and white and sparkly all in the same moment, and you recognise this feeling.  
She hasn't touched you yet, and you toss your head, grab for her shoulders, her hair, her hands, anything you can touch and love and try to own. She drives you near crazy with her half-there appearance. You can only see her when the moon light touches her, but she's insanely beautiful when it does so.  
  
She ducks down over you and kisses the side of your neck, working her way over and around your collarbone. You moan and one of your hands clutches around her neck, the other reaches for her waist.  
  
She leans back again and manages to pry your hands from her, holding a wrist in each hand. She holds them together as she leans to kiss you again, and you laugh and struggle against her, raining kisses on her face as you do so. She noses against your cheek and you smile again, manage to get your hands free. She straddles you as you do so, trying to hold you in place.  
  
You slide your hands down her stomach, then up under the edge of her shirt. You watch her face the whole time you do this, waiting, almost expecting her to say no.  
  
She doesn't, and you can feel her skin slide under your palms, every inch of it as soft as you'd dreamed. Your fingers bump over the ridges of her ribs as you trail higher, then move to the sides to tug the shirt off.  
  
She watches you all while you do it, and she never stops you. You drop the shirt to the side and return to her. Your hands trace her sides and she laughs a little as you find a ticklish spot. Without waiting another second, you draw her down and kiss her again.  
Later, you draw carefully apart and solemnly dress each other, carefully refraining from any overtly sensual touching. As insane as it seems, you're still on the clock, so you move in and carefully button her shirt, leaving the top open as she always does. You straighten her necklace and she looks at you critically and smooths down your hair.  
  
She climbs through the opening between the front seats and settles herself in the passenger seat as you watch admiringly. You want to touch her again, but for now, you won't.  
An endless shift later, you communicate with your eyes in the break room and wordlessly get up to pull on your jackets.  
  
You gesture to the results you've both been studying. "I'll take these in to Grissom, meet you in the car."  
  
She looks ready to agree, then her eyes abruptly refocus past your shoulder. "No need." She says coldly, and if you hadn't seen that shift in perception, your heart would have cracked from her tone.  
  
Instead you turn and see Grissom in the doorway, an unreadable gaze fixed on Sara. He moves silently into the room.  
  
"Catherine, would you excuse us?" he requests, but his voice isn't asking a question.  
  
You raise an eyebrow, but before you can comment, Sara beats you to it. "You can stay." She tells you, carelessly dismissing Grissom's request without a second thought.  
  
Grissom gives you a long stare, and you can feel his resentment as you shrug and casually lean back on the table. You flash him the beginnings of a smile and his scowl deepens.  
  
"Perhaps this conversation can wait." He allows grudgingly. You would smile at the concession that isn't a concession, but the conversation referred to is not a matter for amusement. You turn unwillingly pleading eyes on Sara.  
  
She glances at him, at you, then makes her decision. "No, it can't." she decides. Grissom's look is of surprise, you're sure your own is no different.  
  
"Sara." he murmurs, and there's an edge of guilt there.  
  
"We're not having this conversation. Ever." Sara overrules him. "It's over, and everyone knows it."  
  
She looks past his shock, and glances to you. You understand the silent message, and as she walks out, you smile before following her.  
End 


End file.
